Striving for a Servant's Heart: How to Care for Young and Old

At opposite ends of life’s spectrum, my mother and grandson have so much in common.

As I began writing this week’s story, the words “we are pilgrims on a journey” came to mind. They come from “The Servant Song” by Richard Gillard, a favorite of mine. I looked up the lyrics and found they lined up nicely with the thoughts I was sharing. You can listen to two beautiful renditions of the song here.

Will you let me be your servant

Let me be as Christ to you

Pray that I may have the grace

To let you be my servant too

We are pilgrims on a journey

Fellow travelers on the road...

Lately, I have been a frequent “traveler on the road.” My mom is in hospice care and even though she’s been stable for the past few weeks, I know my days with her are limited. So every week or two, I make the hour and 45-minute drive southwest to visit her. After a short stay of a few hours or a couple of days, I drive back home.

In addition, I’ve taken frequent jaunts an hour and 45 minutes north. That’s where my son, daughter-in-law, and nearly 8-month-old grandson live. At least once a month, I need a dose of his sweet little cheeks, perfect for kissing, his fuzzy strawberry-blonde hair, and his infectious baby laugh.

Ollie and my mom both own a piece of real estate in my heart. And right now, both are helpless to live on their own. They’ve made me keenly aware of the journey we all travel in this life. And of the fact that we can’t do it alone.

We are here to help each other

Walk the mile and bear the load.

Fifty-some years ago, at the beginning of my life’s journey, I was the one who was helpless. Mom fed me. Rocked me. Bathed me. Calmed my cries. Changed my wet and dirty diapers. Wiped my runny nose and the drool from my chin. I depended on her.

But I grew and learned new skills. I learned to take care of myself. To talk and think for myself. To depend on myself. With that independence came a small measure of pride and resistance to asking for help.

Years later, I brought my own child into the world. It made me realize all that Mom had done for me in those early years. As I cared for my little ones, I experienced firsthand that servant-love I had once been given. I poured out my own servant love on my children. It was hard work and though I complained and often grew tired, fully giving of myself had its own rewards. I was also blessed with a husband, parents, and others who stepped in to help me. I watched as my children grew, learned, and became less dependent on me.

Then the tables turned. As my children needed less of me, my parents needed more.

Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s about five years ago. She depended on Dad’s servant-love and other home helpers to assist her with cooking and cleaning. My sisters and I began sorting through her closet and taking her shopping for new clothes. I remembered how she had once taken us shopping, keeping us dressed in the latest styles.

She had trouble following recipes too. So we brought her casseroles, pot roasts, and crock pots full of chili. Just as she had once fed her brood of five home-cooked, hearty meals, now it was our turn to provide for her. To become like servants.

Many imperceptible changes occurred over the past few years for my parents and my children. But this past year there were huge changes, both wonderful and tragic.

The best day of the whole year was the day our little grandson entered the world. “He’s perfect,” said the long-awaited text. We rejoiced and watched our son become a father and our daughter-in-law a mother. Holding this little miracle filled me with awe.

Six weeks later, came the worst day of the whole year. My dad had fallen and within a few short hours, a brain bleed had taken his life. We mourned his passing and celebrated his long life and family legacy.

Then we considered what to do about Mom.

I will hold the Christ-light for you

In the nighttime of your fear

I will hold my hand out to you

Speak the peace you long to hear

For a short time, until we found a live-in caregiver, my sisters and I took turns staying with Mom. She would wake up during the night and wander down to the guest room where I was sleeping, looking for Dad. I would get up and with my hand gently guiding, walk her back to her bed as I explained again that Dad was gone. It reminded me of how she had quieted my fears, sometimes in the middle of the night, when I was a child.

Mom’s reliance on others increased even more when cancer ravaged her already weakened body. She needed help walking. Bathing. And dressing. Along with her caregivers, we stepped in to help her with the things she couldn’t do. The things she had once done for us.

Watching Mom become frail and helpless, while at the same time seeing Ollie learn and grow has often brought to mind the circle of life. While Ollie’s life has just begun, Mom’s is coming full circle. They are at opposite ends of life’s spectrum, yet they have so much in common.

Even after raising four children of my own, I am amazed at Ollie’s development. And I’m saddened to see my once-caregiving mother, now reliant on others to care for her.

As Ollie begins to eat from a spoon and put finger foods in his mouth, Mom has regressed to pudding and applesauce that we feed her. We wipe her chin, just as we wipe Ollie’s.

Mom can no longer walk but she helps us by rolling herself over to her side so we can change her bedding. Ollie has learned to roll and sit, and he’ll soon be standing and walking on his own.

Both Ollie and Mom are in diapers. Both need others to bathe them and wash their hair.

Mom’s speech is fading, as Ollie’s babbling sounds blossom. His giggles and exuberance make us laugh. Mom’s sarcasm and sense of humor still shine through and also make us laugh.

I will weep when you are weeping

When you laugh, I’ll laugh with you

I will share your joy and sorrow

Till we’ve seen this journey through

Spending time with Ollie is a joy. Feeding, changing, bathing, and entertaining him is a pleasure that warms this grandma’s heart.

Spending time with Mom is also a joy. As I change her, bathe her, and feed her, I am grateful for the years she cared for me and how she taught me to care for others. Returning the love that she gave me is a pleasure that warms this daughter’s heart.

I am still working on my servant qualities. Being selfless does not come naturally. Putting others first takes practice. But the opportunities to do so go beyond my grandson and my ailing mother. My friends, family, students, and church community all present possibilities to shine my Christ-light. Even more challenging at times, is having the grace to let them do the same for me.

I know there are difficult days ahead, for both Mom and Ollie. For all of us. But that is the journey of this life. We begin. We have joy and sadness. And one day we come to the end of our lives on Earth. But not without hope. Because of Christ’s ultimate act of servanthood, we have the hope of rebirth.

When we sing to God in heaven

We will find such harmony

Born of all we’ve known together

Of Christ’s love and agony

I’m thankful for the promise of more life to come. Lives in which we find only joy and in which our love and care for each other are perfected. Until then, as “fellow travelers” on this earthly road, let’s keep striving to help each other, lend a hand, and share the love of Jesus.

Will you let me be your servant

Let me be as Christ to you

Pray that I may have the grace

To let you be my servant too.